


Sore Winners

by Newspaper



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Competitive, F/M, Flowey is a sore loser, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Mush, Gen, M/M, Other, So is reader, a friend told me to tag that in, also im sega trash, but mario is cool i guess, flowey is also a sore winner, jk i know nothing about nintendo, mario kart is serious shit ok, okay i'll stop, surprise surprise reader is too, theres some romance in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 10:33:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11011683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Newspaper/pseuds/Newspaper
Summary: A little competition never hurt anyone, right?





	Sore Winners

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PandaKittens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandaKittens/gifts).



> > Another late one shot for my squish~  
> > I was given a prompt and I rolled with it, I was surprised when Flowey was the character chosen XD  
> > *pretty sure she chose him cuz she knows i love him but still*
> 
> >this was for an art/write trade! She enjoyed it, so I hope yall do too. <3

The food just kept piling up.

 

This was why you shouldn’t order take out when on an empty stomach. Flowey had insisted on placing the order and yet you fought for control, which lead to ordering half the menu. And now your living room was a greasy junk food paradise, a paradise you thoroughly enjoyed considering you couldn’t cook for shit and Flowey was apparently too lazy to bother.

 

It was pretty rare for Flowey to indulge in a night of ‘unhealthy garbage’ and gaming. You didn’t know about his day or anything that lead up to this point, but you could only assume that if he needed a junk food video game binge day then it meant his morning and afternoon didn’t go so well. You were a close friend of his, at least, you figured you were. And since these moments were so rare and precious, you planned on definitely cherishing it.

 

And so your Saturday night wasn’t spent alone. Here you were, surrounded by Chinese take out, popato chisps, multiple cans of soda pop fizz and, of course to fuse all the smells together, a golden flower named Flowey.

 

“What are you staring at?” Flowey finally snapped you out of your staring contest with him, though it wasn’t voluntary. The two of you avoided eye contact quickly afterwards to figure out what games to play, you having displayed all the cases and systems you owned before him in hopes of him choosing one. Apparently he had gotten distracted from picking due to your unmoving gaze from his petals.

“I got distracted.” You defended weakly, before nudging him “Did you pick anything yet?”

As if reading your mind he commented, while looking back to the games “The orange chicken is clouding my judgement.”

“Well, you could’ve cooked.” You shrugged, leaning back against the bottom of the couch. You had started off on the sofa for a short while, with Flowey in his flower pot beside you watching TV, until it was decided you both were starving to death and bored out of your minds. Ever since the order was delivered and the soda was popped however, the two of you ended up on the carpeted floor.

“I’m allowed a lazy day like anyone else.” Flowey huffed, finally picking up a-- nevermind he put it back down “I know you enjoy using me for my cooking talents, but I’m not your slave. Learn how to make your own shit.”

 

“I can cook plenty of dishes.” You insisted, though the flower shut you down quickly with a soft comment “Ramen doesn’t count.”

 

Changing the subject, you groaned out, your boredom taking control “Flowey please just pick something~”

 

“Fine.” He glanced up at the TV, then back down at the games, before pointing with a leaf “Mario Kart 8.”

“Ah~ you dare challenge me to a racing game~” You deepened your voice as best as you can for dramatic effect, cackling in an attempt to seem evil as you took the game from him and crawled your way to the WiiU system “Prepare to lose, fool.”

“You’re a nerd.” He remarked simply, and just when you expected him to say something else, by the time you sat back beside him his mouth was full of pan-fried noodles and white rice. With a smile you shrugged “I’m the nerd who's gonna kick your ass.”

 

It took him awhile to retort, considering his mouth was stuffed. “I don’t have an ass, dumbshit.”

 

“Grab a fucking controller.”

 

And the race was on.

 

It started off pretty casual, which was surprising after all the smack talk you dished out before the game had began. The both of you seemed mostly preoccupied with food and beverage than the actual screen, though once most of the food had been finished off and left nothing to shut your mouths, that’s when things started getting heated. Mostly from Flowey’s end, as he began to show signs of adapting to your behaviorism’s.

“Ya know, I’m pretty skilled at most of these games.” Flowey’s invisible brows were furrowed, his deep brown and hazel eyes were entirely focused on the television. At this point his vines were doing most of the work, having sprouted from his flower pot for better control over the WiiU pad. His leaves swayed with his body from side to side whenever his character, Bowser, went left or right, as if his motions would aid on his turns. But even as he bragged, he was concentrated “It’s gonna suck knowing you got your ass beat by a flower, huh? But don’t worry, I’ll tell everyone you took it  _ gently.” _

 

You scoffed “You mean I took it with grace or something?”

 

He smirked “I know what I meant.”

 

The only reason you didn’t clap-back to his cocky responses, though, was because you were winning. If only he paid attention to the other racers around him he would have taken note of your lead. He was absolutely shocked when you had passed the finish line and confetti blasted the TV monitor, announcing your victory.

 

“What the hell?!” He slammed the controller down, and you did the same as you leaped to your feet “I kicked your ass!”

“I was winning!” Flowey snapped, annoyed at your victory dance and letting his vine wrap around your leg to give a sharp yank and force you to topple over “How the hell did you cheat?!”

“It’s not my fault you don’t pay attention to your actual place!” You continued mocking him even after face planting on the carpet, thankfully barely missing the empty takeout containers that had piled up. You decided that, once he had released you, to take a break for cleaning and to help him cool off… not that you helped much with your inflated ego and parading around the living room as you cleaned. He was completely silent all the while you made sure to remove any and all trash from the floor, letting Luigi drive a few victory laps around the race track. Overhearing Flowey’s angry grumblings, you were certain he didn’t want to play anymore.

 

However he challenged your thoughts once you sat back down next to him.

 

“We’re finishing this race.” Flowey side-eyed you, not gracing a turn of his head but still glaring daggers at you through his golden petals. You could see his eyes caving in, turning into dark voids of, probably, anger and rage. A faint red light glowed in the back of his sockets, also implying how pissy he was becoming.

 

But you knew fully well he could tantrum all he wanted, he still wouldn’t kill you.

 

_ (You think.) _

 

“Oh? You wanna keep going?” You turned your head to face him fully, leaning down to his level. Just like that, his creepy face had changed back to his regular appearance, and he turned away “We have two more rounds, don’t we? If you use up all your energy on being  _ proud _ from one round, you’ll definitely fuck up for the remaining two.”

 

“Suddenly there’s a strategy? But you were so confident before that you’d win~”

 

Flowey’s vine’s had slammed down on the WiiU pad, the television screen fading to black before starting up a new round on a new track. His last comment came out surprisingly cool and calm, and yet the moment the race began he was the first to scream as loudly as his tiny lungs could muster  **“FUCKING EAT MY DUST!”**

 

And the race was on. Again.

 

Flowey found himself to be less chatty this time around, considering he had gloated too much for someone losing in the first.

 

The circuit would consist of four races; the first one having been a victorious win on your part, and the second—what you and Flowey were currently in—would be another easy win from what you presumed. The player would score points based off of what place they finished for each race, and the player with the most points at the end would win it all.

 

Not that anything was really at stake, well, other than bragging rights.

 

And with Flowey being less chatty, and you being more focused as well, you still beat him this round with ease. There was nothing more enjoyable than watching as Luigi crossed the finish line, though much to Flowey’s effort Bowser was at least in second place.

 

But he still lost so that didn’t really matter.

 

“And another one bites the dust.” You hummed in content, grinning from ear to ear as you looked over towards Flowey, who was holding the controller as tight as his vines could. You could tell that he was suppressing the urge to destroy the device, considering the thorns along his tendrils were prickling, as if preparing to emerge, but just not quite there yet. He was holding himself back, holding in his rage, but that wouldn’t stop you from giving it your all. It was a shitty situation, putting two  _ very  _ competitive people against each other. It didn’t help that you and him were both sore losers, let alone sore winners.

 

Both of you knew that whoever won, and whoever lost, wouldn’t hear the end of it.

 

Luigi continued to race around the track to do a few victory laps, and you took that moment to lean in towards Flowey with a small grin “How are you holdin’ up, hot stuff?” You cooed gently for him, talking as smooth as your ego would let you all the while Flowey’s face showed a gentle reaction—a faint blush and a slight glare, without turning his head in your direction.

 

“Don’t talk like that.” He muttered between clenched teeth, and you played coy “Talk like what?”

 

“Like  _ that _ . All flirty—like a weirdo.”

 

“You like it.”

 

And he went quiet for a bit, in which you took a mental note of teasing him more later on. Though he cut your thoughts off with his own side comment of “How long am I gonna have to lock you in the freezer?”

 

You wrinkled your nose “Eh? For what?”

 

“Until you  _ chill _ .”

 

_ Ooooh~ _ the flower had jokes of his own.

 

Flowey snorted a laugh that was surprisingly adorable, and Luigi’s victory laps faded into black as the third race was prepared to start.

 

“You know…” You began, finding yourself rather comfortable as you settled onto the carpeting. Now that the trash had been removed, there was a lot more leg room for you, and of course more room for Flowey to flail his vines around in the case of a certified loss “You’re actually pretty cute, for a flower.”

 

Flowey’s embarrassment was apparent, but it didn’t change his cocky smile as he kept his eyes focused on the screen. The racers were all lined up at the start, the countdown began as he snickered “Well, you’re okay… I guess…” And he snorted “For an idiot.”

 

The race started, and Bowser dashed ahead of the rest as he zoomed off. It was an unexpected move, from someone who had lost two matches in a row of course. You were somewhat baffled that he was taking the lead for most of the race, and even when he was struggling to keep first place, you and him bounced back and forth in one another’s shadow just to reach the goal before the other.

 

And this time, it was Flowey’s turn to boast.

 

“Golly, breathing in so much exhaust is probably bad for your health~” Flowey dared to pout, in an attempt to look as innocent and worryful as he possibly could “Maybe you shouldn’t be riding my  _ ass _ so much. But then again I know you can’t help it.”

 

“You’re one to gloat considering you were doing just that before.” You bit your bottom lip as you tried to make it past him, it wasn’t working, but you sure as hell were trying “Or should I say you’re one to  _ goat _ .”

 

“That was shitty and you know it.” Flowey retorted. And mulling it over for a few seconds, you agreed “Sorry, low blow—I’ll save those especially for when we’re in a real fight.”

 

“When will we ever be?” Flowey asked, just as he hit the finish line. Now was Bowser’s turn to make some victory laps, just as Flowey waved his leaves and tendrils like they were arms at a stadium. And Flowey was right, of course. You two would playfully jab at one another constantly, and sometimes it would get to the point of people being concerned that it  _ looked _ like a real fight, but other than that, neither of you ever felt the need to lash out or get into a big brawl over anything. Let alone something as trivial as his past.

 

He had long since moved on from that ordeal.

 

“You’re getting better.” You complimented, though only to cover up your ego that had been crushed. You were throwing a tantrum on the inside, and more than anything wanting to pick up his flower pot and send it flying into the soda cans—but you didn’t, because you were a mature individual “Were you inspired from watching me beat you twice?”

Flowey was still pretty smug, narrowing his eyes as he looked your way “It’s okay to feel bad that you lost. I’d feel like shit if I were in your shoes.”

 

“You’re adorable when you try to be, Flowey.”

 

He snickered “I didn’t know you liked me like that, this is new.”

 

And you weren’t sure what he meant as he started up the final race. But the more you thought about it, more silently as the two of you looked back to the game, the more you wondered if you did have feelings for Flowey in that sense. The two of you were practically best friends, imagining being anything more than that sounded…. ridiculous.

 

But it also sounded possible. And not too bad, you figured.

 

“What are you thinking about~?” During the race, he would sprout his vine to poke and prod at your side, bugging you and pestering you, but in that gentle and almost timid way. His actions had become as soft as his suddenly  _ caring _ voice, and the more he teases you, the more you’re distracted from actually playing the game. You couldn’t tell what place he was in, but you knew your place wasn’t any better.

“Nothing.” You finally commented, but he didn’t believe you as he pushed “Sometimes your brain  _ does _ work, actually… so tell me… what are you thinking about?”

 

“I said nothing.” You tried once more.

 

He didn’t buy it “Aw… do you really like me like that?”

 

Was the room suddenly getting hotter? You figured it was, because now it felt as if Flowey was trying to hint at you his own feelings. And with this, as well as you questioning your own for him, you were being sent in a spiral of confusion. Did you like him?  _ Did you? _

 

“Just tell me.” Flowey’s words were soft as he asked this, his vines suddenly cradled your face as he turned your attention in his direction. Forcing you, ever so slightly, to look right into his eyes. Those beady hazel eyes-- that could flash red as blood or white as snow in less than a millisecond—were now wide and curious as they looked into your own orbs. And for a moment, you managed to glimpse at his everything. His slightly flushed face, his thoughtful and pouty lips, his petals that suddenly glowed in the warm evening light of the living room. Flowey dared to beg “Please?”

 

And for a second you wondered… do you  _ really _ like Flowey?

 

In the blink of an eye, his stem elongated just so his face could be right in front of yours. The vines that cupped your cheeks loosened, and you found yourself breathing out… a breath you never realized you had been holding in the entire time.

He let a leaf grace your lips, covering your mouth delicately as he smiled, almost nervous as to what you might have said as he whispered in advance  _ “Shh… no words…” _

You felt yourself leaning closer towards him, his own face leaning in, and you were ready to give in and kiss. You didn’t think about how you  _ really _ felt for him often, before this evening the only label you would have ever put onto him was friend, or maybe even  _ ‘frenemies’ _ considering you two were great rivals whenever it came to anything competitive. But now everything was laid down on the table—everything was questioned and your mind raced as fast as your heart, as fast as Luigi in—

 

_ Wait… _

 

_ Did Flowey pause the game before all this? _

 

You realized his eyes were no longer fixated on you, but were glancing over towards the television screen at the game. With his leaf having completely covered your mouth, you let out a muffled groan of annoyance as you laid witness to Bowser passing the finish line—he had driven three laps behind your back with  _ another _ pair of vines, all the while keeping you distracted with something more intimate.

 

Just as softly as he had been speaking before, his teasing tone never faltered as he whispered again “ _ I win…”  _ And he pulled away.

 

The silence was deafening. You weren’t sure what to say—but to keep yourself from killing the damned demon from hell you instead screamed out and slapped your hands over your face. This was enough to trigger Flowey to also yell, but of course in more victorious fashion than your petty ass could manage at this time. Flowey was literally laughing as any evil maniac would after successfully murdering someone—though in this case he murdered your spirit and ego, and dragged your guts considering you had gotten so intimate and had been so certain that you really liked him, only for him to use the romantic moment as a means of getting what he wanted… which was victory.

 

“Wow! I did NOT expect you to be so  _ gullible! _ ” He snorted a loud laugh, Flowey’s laugh was definitely genuine since he jumped around from different types of laughs as if trying to figure out which was the best “You fell for it so easily! I thought you were really gonna figure it all out—but you didn’t! ‘Cause you’re a  _ dumbass! _ ”

 

“And you’re a douche.” You groaned in annoyance, no longer trying to be the bigger person in this. You huffed and slammed the start button to skip Bowser’s victory run and reach the final results. You really hoped that you earned more points than him, because that would be the best after such a noisy cheer that Flowey just completed.

 

“It’s not my fault you get distracted so easily, nerd.” He said with that same smug grin he had been wearing since his first win “Don’t be such a sore loser.”

 

“You’re a sore loser too so don’t give me that.” You stuck out your tongue. And in a casual fashion, he let a tendril of his lightly poke at the exposure. You retracted it quickly from this—the taste of plant in your mouth not something you wanted to envision momentarily.

 

“We both are.” Flowey confirmed, pulling his vine away from you then as the final results were shown on the television screen.

 

As the points added up and the bar fluctuated for suspense, Flowey turned his head towards you fully then. You looked at him with a huff, just as he managed with a small smile “You’re cute when you’re angry~”

There were a lot of things you were prepared to say in that moment—though what you managed wasn’t exactly one of them “And you’re just plain cute.”

 

The two of you tied, and in unison your heads both shot back to the screen. Baffled and irked over the realization there was no victor and the two of you had both tied for first place, you and Flowey stared at the screen as if anything could change the points accumulated to make one or the other  _ truly _ victorious… but nothing happened. All that remained were the computers calmly applauding for Bowser and Luigi, who both shared a pedestal the same height as one another.

 

You do not ship.

 

You didn’t tear your eyes away from the screen until you felt Flowey staring at you. A brow had been arched, a suspicious smirk over his lips, and it was just that genuine look of interest that was expected of an  _ evil _ flower who once tried to reign destruction over the entire universe. This was a competitive look of preparation and expectation, a look that you slowly found your face contorting into all the same. A look of  _ challenge _ .

 

Almost like twins, the two of you mumbled “One more round.” together, as you stuffed your face with sweet and sour chicken and he stuffed his with Beijing beef.

**Author's Note:**

> > Did I do a good editing job? plx tel m3 naow vote in the coments sexion below


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